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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23760064">Doesn’t Mean Anything (Definitely Not at All)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LearnedFoot/pseuds/LearnedFoot'>LearnedFoot</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>BoJack Horseman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, In-Universe RPF, In-Universe RPF Suggestions of BoJack/Mr. Peanutbutter, In-Universe RPF Suggestions of Diane/BoJack</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:27:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,057</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23760064</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LearnedFoot/pseuds/LearnedFoot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Anyway”—he types something into the search bar—“turns out, people write stories, on the internet, about me. Sexy stories, Diane! Stories about me, having sex!”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mr. Peanutbutter/Diane Nguyen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>What Fen Do (Instead of Going Outside)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Doesn’t Mean Anything (Definitely Not at All)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingargents/gifts">darlingargents</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was such fun to write. I hope you enjoy!</p><p>Content: Rated M for in-universe fic content only. No actual sex happens between the characters. Labeled for Diane/Mr. PB because they're together in it, but it's not super shippy. Set squeezed in around the beginning of 2x07 ("Hank After Dark").</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Diane! Open up, I have a very important question.”</p><p>Diane startles out of a near trance. She glances at her screen only to discover she’s halfway through a quiz to find out which <em>Horsin’ Around </em>character she is. When did that happen? She puts her laptop aside and, sighing, drags herself to the hotel door.</p><p>“What is it, BoJack?” she asks as she opens it. “I was in the middle of…prep. For the book tour. Obviously.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t care.” BoJack shoves past, into her room. “Have you heard of fanfiction?”</p><p>“Uh.” This feels like a trap. “I mean, I’m <em>aware</em>— Hey, boundaries!”</p><p>He’s grabbed her laptop and plunked his butt down on her bed, which is so not okay.</p><p>“Why are you taking this quiz?” he asks, ignoring her protest. “You’re obviously a Goober.”</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>“Anyway”—he types something into the search bar—“turns out, people write stories, on the internet, <em>about me</em>. Sexy stories, Diane! Stories about me, having sex!”</p><p>“Yeah, I know.” She sits on the edge of the bed, resigned to not getting her laptop back until BoJack gets his inevitable rant out. “<em>Horsin’ Around </em>has a surprisingly resilient fan community, and a weirdly large number of people ship your character with Sabrina’s teacher from Season 3…” A weirdly large number of people that definitely did not include Diane her Freshmen year. Nope.</p><p>“Well, obviously. We had amazing chemistry, everyone knows that. But I don’t mean my <em>character</em>, Diane. <em>Me</em>. BoJack Horseman.” He turns the screen. “In this one I’m railing Naomi Watts.”</p><p>Oh. Great. Diane can already predict the spiral. All it will take is one line about his flabby stomach and her night is over. “Yeah, real person fiction, it’s a thing. Which…uh…I know because I read an article about it. It’s a little strange, but if you just ignore it—”</p><p>“Ignore it? Diane, this is amazing! ‘<em>His toned abs tense as he drills her just right, her third orgasm of the hour building</em>—’”</p><p>“Whoa!” She covers her ears, but it doesn’t help block the mental image. “I don’t need a dramatic reading.”</p><p>“Are you sure? This is good stuff.”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m sure. In fact, if you could just take this back to your room…”</p><p>“Wait, but I wanted to show you—” More clicking. Then: “Look, there’s a bunch about us.”</p><p>She drops her hands. “Us? Like…you and me, us? Someone has written fanfic about <em>me</em>?” He hands the computer back. There it is: BoJack Horseman/Diane Nguyen. “But why?”</p><p>“You’re famous-ish now, Diane,” BoJack explains, getting up. “Because of your book about me, obviously. You met me, and now you’re famous enough that people write porn about you on the internet. You’re welcome.”</p><p>“Is that why you burst in here? To get me to thank you?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah. Obviously.”</p><p>She sighs. Of course it is. “Goodnight, BoJack.”</p><p>***</p><p>She shouldn’t read it. She knows she shouldn’t read it. It’s just dumb stories on the internet that have nothing to do with who she really is, or even who people really think she is. It’s all self-projection. Just other people’s fantasies.</p><p>She reads it.</p><p>People ship her with BoJack. Fewer people ship her with Mr. Peanutbutter. A <em>lot </em>of people have her as Mr. Peanutbutter’s beard to cover his epic, decades-long love with BoJack. Even more think she’s the raging bitch who won’t let them be together.</p><p>Sometimes, she’s described more like Sextina Aquafina than herself, with curves in places she has never once had curves. Those fics normally turn her into a subby sex goddess who lives to serve. Which, gross, and also, why is she never the dom? What kind of sexist bullshit is that?</p><p>More often, she’s dowdy, dumpy, nerdy, meek except when she’s nagging. Which is…also sexist bullshit. That’s all. It has nothing to do with who she is. Nothing. If she keeps repeating it, maybe she’ll believe it.</p><p>Nothing, nothing, nothing. It’s all made up.</p><p>She should stop. She should definitely, one-hundred percent stop reading this.</p><p>***</p><p>She doesn’t stop reading. She does raid the mini-fridge for the little bottles of booze, which she is totally going to make BoJack pay for.</p><p>***</p><p>By the time Mr. Peanutbutter calls for their goodnight chat, she’s too drunk and too upset not to tell him. Which is a bad idea, because he’s immediately obsessed.</p><p>“Why are there more about you and BoJack than you and me?” he asks once he wraps his mind around the general idea and starts searching for himself. This was <em>such </em>a mistake. She can literally hear him banging on the keyboard in the background as he furiously clicks around. “We’re <em>married</em>.”</p><p>“That’s the problem,” she slurs. How to make him understand? “We’re married. It’s boring. People like the sizzle of a forbidden affair. It’s sexier.”</p><p>“People like that, or <em>you </em>like that?”</p><p>“Oh my god, <em>people</em>, Mr. Peanutbutter. Not me. Trust me, I don’t think our marriage is boring.” A mistake maybe, but not boring.</p><p>Wait. No. She doesn’t think it’s a mistake. Scratch that. Alcohol talking.</p><p>“Really? Because you keep talking about going to an entirely different country…”</p><p>Fuck. Double mistake. Massive mistake. Biggest mistake. The ceiling is starting to spin. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is all BoJack’s fault.</p><p>“Mr. Peanutbutter, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just random people on the internet who like to make things up. There’re way more stories about you and BoJack than me with either of you.”</p><p>“Wait, really? About our friendship?”</p><p>“No about…you know. You guys in a romantic relationship. Which obviously has no bearing on reality, so…”</p><p>“Really? Me and BoJack? Where do I find—” More typing, some muttering. “Well, would you look at that.”</p><p>“See? It doesn’t mean anything.”</p><p>“Huh, yeah.” Now he sounds distracted. “Right. Doesn’t mean anything. Just like you said.” More clicking. Definitely distracted. “So what if they make you nerdy and nagging? You’re—wow<em> what</em>? How would that even…” A very long pause. “Sorry, what was I saying?”</p><p>She sighs. He’s going to be useless. “Nothing important. It’s fine. I’m going to hang up now. Love you.”</p><p>“Uh-huh,” he mumbles. “You, too.”</p><p>She hangs up and stares at the ceiling some more. It’s still spinning. She closes her eyes, which doesn’t help.</p><p>Yep, none of it means anything. None of it means anything at all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, feedback is loved &lt;3</p><p>Also, I went completely insane with this exchange and wrote about 20k in a week. Please, <i>please</i> point out the inevitable typos that made it through. I promise I will be grateful, not annoyed.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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